


Ignite

by crackmonkeytrash



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abstract, Dumbledore Bashing (mild), Hufflepuff Harry Potter, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, The Horcruxes don't get along very much, Tomarry Dark Spring Exchange, Will include NSFW later, the Durselys get what they deserve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-25 22:23:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10773681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crackmonkeytrash/pseuds/crackmonkeytrash
Summary: "Emerald eyes pierced through the unnatural fog, a glint of unfathomable rage piercing directly into Dumbledore's heart. A ravenous grin stretched across the teen's face as he backed up further, predatory steps screaming experience that simply did not add up. Slowly, five sets of ruby red eyes shone through the darkness."I have not been alone for... averylong time, Headmaster.""





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Tomarry Dark Spring Exchange, for Rustigheid on Tumblr.  
> This is a work in progress and it is the first fic I've really written that isn't a drabble, so bare with me. Next chapter will come before Wednesday.
> 
> prompt was "Hrorcrux, Identity, Political". It includes all three but will mostly focusing on the Horcruxes and their relationship with Harry.
> 
> I hope you like it!

It always came back to the dark. 

In the beginning, the darkness had been tainted by the slow drip of blood, the pounding heartbeat in his ears, and muffled snores reverberating through his bones. He had learned to appreciate the still, however, as it was the crackling of light and waking world that always began the savagery in his existence. The dark had never hurt him; Not like those filthy, disgusting creatures in the light did. 

For in his blackened cupboard, cramped and ravaged by spiders, crusted blood and tears screamed _resolve_. Had he not nursed every discrepancy tight against his aching ribcage, every cold and starved night not fed the wrathful inferno inside, then he would not have survived.

He knew this very well. 

The tumultuous ache in his chest, the overwhelming _need_ to make them pay, wove itself so deep inside that it had awoken something that others may wish to have been buried so deep inside it drowned, but to Harry…

To Harry, that other, the Dominus¹, sharpened his ravaged edges into a weapon, more than he ever could have accomplished on his own. They were soul warped, fitful and quaking in all that they were, and that forged them together in a fire so hot that it melted flesh and bone alike. 

And when the greedy, disgusting muggles finally tipped the molten miasma of fury that they had so furiously tried to starve in a cupboard, even their souls were not released into hell; for that would have been a Mercy they did not deserve.

~

The last they had seen of that wretched house, it had still been lit ablaze by liquid flame, sweltering and delicious in their revenge. 

If anything, the death of the Dursleys managed to mold the obliterating heat of Harry into something even more. 

The muggle authorities would have tried to send Harry and his Dominus to an orphanage, had they been known. In fact, the Dursleys had never even considered filing anything resembling the legalities they were obligated to, for how should they explain the appearance of such a beast, as if stolen from the depths itself? The wizarding world had no business delivering infants like scraps to the doorsteps of such creatures, and they had paid dearly for their mistake. Any modicum of sense and responsibility was eternally fallible under the direction of their Esteemed Light Lord. 

Had Dominus succeeded in his capture of their World, the painful incompetence shown time and time again by the Ministry and their ilk would have been razed in an embryo of flame so deep that the scorch of their failure would never recover. Had he succeeded, the coiled rage against his unwanted Host reminding him of his failure, lack of documentation would have been the least of their problems. 

And so they escaped with an ease others could only dream of. 

Dominus knew, _oh_ , did he know, that the infant body their flame was ensconced in was not able to survive, thrive, alone. 

And so they went collecting. 

This one was young, warped in a haze of adolescence, and had not yet been cast into the tremulous fit that stolen reign had encased Dominus at his downfall. He was so very ambitious, and so, so very naive. 

He was also exactly what they needed. 

Obtaining a wizard of enough strength to carry the shard of a being they had retrieved from the Shack had taken time, and no little amount of intervention from the writhing haze within young Harry to do so. Whether they had singed an entire eurasian village in their quest, was inconsequential. 

Following the ritual of reconnecting the soul shard from within the Ring to the mortal husk, they left, the two souls teaching and growing with Harry, training and always, _always_ , adding fuel to the fire. 

(This one too took from Dominus the act of a false name, for their ultimate goal of collecting each fragment would get horrifically confusing should they all adopt the same name, and thus became Marvolo)

~

Marvolo was significantly nicer than Dominus, Harry found. Then again, Dominus was so entwined and possessive and _his_ that their bond was interminably deeper. 

The two did not _fight_ , per se, but Harry could taste the tension and knotted rage between them practically lick at his skin.  
There were 37 years of alteration between them, and Harry knew better than to question them, for his sake. He had the better part of 4 years to acclimate himself to it, and grew better and better with each passing day at teasing the motives from them.

They had caught onto that awhile ago, but either didn’t mind, or didn’t know how to fix it, as they hadn’t tried to stop him. 

It wasn’t the easiest of situations, constantly travelling, and being relentlessly pushed into unknown situations in order to “learn under pressure” as his companions so eloquently put it. It often ended in pain or lecturing, but Harry would not trade it for the world. 

Besides, what other guardian would accept, even appreciate, Harry’s ever-growing murderistic tendencies? 

~

The balance between them was shifted in a way that Harry did not understand when he received his Hogwarts Letter on the eve of Lughnasadh. It made little sense to Harry why they demand his response on the very same day he received the letter, but he was not one to overestimate the whims of the Light Wizards. 

Dominus and Marvolo were in agreeance of few things, but their adamant dislike of one Albus Dumbledore and his “Order of Bloody Chickens”, whatever that meant, was one. If they had taught him anything through their speeches, it was that the Light, under the lead of Dumbledore was poisoning the integrity of Magick itself, and that their actions would cause the death of the wizarding world, sooner rather than later if things kept on as they were. 

However, that was their problem to deal with, not Harry’s. They were not yet strong enough to make an impact within the British Isles, but their incessant travelling was not for naught. Marvolo, as he was the only one of the two that had their own body, had been quietly influencing contingency plans for reintegrating the Olde Ways, and together with Harry, eliminating the opposition. What might have once been called the Dark Sect was slowly, steadily, gaining more influence in the world once again. This time, for the preservation of Magick, not the needless destruction of fellow Magicians. 

Since Harry would be away at school in Scotland, Marvolo would be continuing his political scheme elsewhere. According to him, Harry didn’t need to be privy to the details. 

Dominus and Harry rolled a colossal eye roll. At least Marvolo dropped them off in London before he disapparated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Dominus means Lord in Latin
> 
> Thanks to @bigjellymonster and @Clarisse(transnymphtaire) for beta-ing this chapter for me


	2. The Lull of Mediocrity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The castle approacheth...

Being back in England was odd; after all, he had not been back since he burned the Dursleys alive just over four years ago. 

Of course, he hadn’t been to the British Magick Alley’s before, and he had zero intention of visiting the ruins of the old house, so little was familiar. The Alley was much more drab than the eclectic streets of Tokyo, where he had spent quite a long time perusing the vendors while Marvolo did his political activities. However, that wasn’t unexpected, though still disappointing. 

He only stayed long enough to retrieve his school supplies and purchase extra food for his familiar. He had been concerned that the school board would not allow him to bring Naja with him, but Dominus assured him that a true familiar cannot be prohibited, even if they’re a dangerous species like Naja is. 

The people of the alley were giving him some odd looks, after all, Wolverine’s aren’t endemic to the UK, but Harry couldn’t care less. Naja had a collar embedded with as many protection spells that Marvolo could weave together, so she was undeniably safe. 

~

The looks were much more insistent at the train station. He flooed straight onto the platform, avoiding the muggle mess, and managed to almost be trampled by an auror as he was entering the Express. 

He had no one to say goodbye to; Marvolo was not even on the continent. 

His riotous black curls were pulled back into a messy bun, enough loose to at least attempt to hide his overlarge lightning scar. Naja sat curled into his lap, and Isha, an enchanted albino king cobra that double-served as a temporary host for Dominus when conversation needed to shift outside of Harry’s own head tucked, unconscious, in the dark fabric of his heap-collared robe. 

It was not until about 3 hours into the trip that a gaggle of children came about, making the rounds. The children, a tall blonde boy, two large brutish boys flanking him, a small asian girl with a black bob, and a lanky mixed boy, took a visible sigh of relief when they noticed Harry’s refined wizarding attire. 

They introduced themselves as Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, and Theodore Nott, causing knowledge of each of their families to flood through Harry’s peripheral memory, courtesy of Dominus. 

Parkinson questioned why, if he was Harry Potter as he claimed, he didn’t wear glasses like his father; she was received with a flat stare. The unsteady silence did not delve into conversation once Isha reared up, annoyed by their gawking, and they quietly scuttled out, tails tucked between their legs.

It wasn’t to say that Harry wasn’t sociable, but as he remained quiet even as he sat down at the Hufflepuff table following his sorting, he realized that he had adapted to the general quiet he was usually ensconced in. 

It did not help that he was distracted by the subtle tugging of his soul from within the castle, seemingly somewhere up high. He had known there was another shard in the building, but he had not anticipated the pull so early upon arrival. It had taken weeks before he was able to sense Marvolo’s piece; it was surprising, but very, _very_ intriguing. 

Perhaps the pre-existing magic from the Diadem itself was manipulating and expanding on the connection? It was interesting, nonetheless. 

~

Constant supervision from the eyes of the Light Lord had held off Harry’s draw to the Hidden Room. Dominus was practically boiling over in frustration at the old man, and Harry was not exempt from the same rage; if the years of hard circumstance had taught him anything however, patience, and the benefit to a calm mask was one. 

In the eyes of Dumbledore, young Harry was a quiet, structured, polite child, if rather solitary. He had not foreseen Hufflepuff, and frankly neither had Marvolo if his letter delivered by his snarky Blackiston’s Fish Owl, Sigé, had been clear. But then again, Dumbledore had also abandoned Harry as an infant to the biting cold of the November night, simply assuming what he would about his upbringing. 

He had definitely not predicted him to become a serial arsonist with a particular proclivity for melting flesh off of live humans for “experimental purposes”, but, life is interesting that way.

It took all the way to All Hallow’s Eve for him to escape the watch of Dumbledore and his fellow Hufflepuffs, the incessant tagalogs. 

The Room of Requirement was more… whimsical, than expected. The stacks of books, furniture, and so much more, topped on one another in teetering piles reaching the ceiling, old paintings and lost clothes, knick-knacks and countless other various items just… everywhere. 

Harry was overwhelmed. Dominus, who had been fairly reticent as of late, slid his consciousness into Isha and dropped from Harry’s throat where he had been curled up, slithering through the maze with single-minded focus. Stopping in front of an elaborately carved armoire, he reared up and released the shrinking spell, elongating to his full five metre length. 

And there sat the Diadem.

~

It was jarring how quickly he acclimatized to having the incorporeal soul-piece follow him around. Harry was unaccustomed to being faced with the real face of Tom Riddle, as the others were so changed; of course, Dominus was only a voice, but still. It was an unsettling realization just how _attractive_ he was. 

_He_ preferred to be called Corvus, Latin for raven, a call to the piece that held his soul for about 40 years. 

Whenever Harry was caught staring, Corvus would wink, infuriating Dominus. From what he could discern, it was caused by Dominus’ overpowering possessiveness for Harry, believing him to be _his_ , and only his. That served as endless amusement to Harry; after all, they were all versions of the same person, one would think sharing with oneself would come naturally, but no. 

~

Corvus spent inordinate amounts of time examining Professor Quirrell over the course of the year. He would not divest why, though Quirrell seemed more twitchy after the observations began. 

The Bones girl, Susan, had followed in what seemed a building habit, and watched him from afar, but even given an opening, never approached.

Nothing came of it. 

Harry did find the horcrux playing with a ruby red stone on the train at the end of the year, but didn't bother to ask. Corvus wasn't one for conversation. 

~

Marvolo seemed amused at the looks Corvus sent at Harry, and in his usual fashion, teased Dominus endlessly over it. 

Harry was just glad he was out of the endless vision of the Headmaster, burning the acromantula in the forest just hadn't fed his bloodlust like the muggles did.

It was nice to be home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to hollyjinx for reading over the chapter!!

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Dominus means Lord in Latin
> 
> Thanks to @bigjellymonster and @Clarisse(transnymphtaire) for beta-ing this chapter for me


End file.
